Chapter 2 #2
“The same,” I murmur as I stand a little straighter. There’s no sense letting the shame I live with each day seep from every pore. I’m here to start over, and even though I’ve hit rock bottom, I have the claws to drag myself back out.
“What brings you here to New York and our humble studio?” Greyson cuts in as Vaeda gives him a scolding look, her dark brown eyes shooting arcs of electricity his way.
“You have a beautiful studio,” I begin as Greyson nods and Vaeda rolls her eyes from him and back to me, her stern expression making me swallow down any other compliments. “I’m hoping to start over and once again fall in love with dancing.”
The room becomes quiet as Greyson shifts in his seat and Vaeda continues to stare at me, her eyes narrowing before she says, “A redemption, Mr. Sanchez. That’s what you’re looking for, and you want our studio to provide it.
” She gives me a cruel smile, the motion barely meeting her cold eyes as she watches me with a calculating stare.
“I mean no disrespect when I say your studio can’t save me from what I’ve done, only I can do that, but yes, this is a step in saving myself, Ms. Lewis.”
Her jaw tenses with my proclamation as Greyson dips his head, a ghost of a smile coating his lips.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but your final competition was in Florida over a year ago.
September 15th was the date of the American Dancesport Festival, the international qualifying competition, right, Grey?
” She turns to Greyson as he schools his features and nods, his eyes still focused on me.
“That was the last anyone had heard about the young prodigy, Mateo Sanchez.” She spits out my name as though it’s sitting poison on her tongue.
“Nearly thirteen months ago,” she clarifies as I remain silent, my stomach tightening as acid works its way up my throat. “What happened?”
“I needed a break,” I explain as I skate around the truth. “My mind and my body were suffering, and I was an empty shell who forgot my purpose.”
A sarcastic scoff echoes around the room as Vaeda’s frozen face finally crumbles into a sneer, the expression not subtracting from the stunning beauty of each feature.
“There were rumors of drugs, sex, and complete debauchery.” Her palms flatten to the tabletop as Greyson turns to watch her, his eyes widening at her disdain.
“Inappropriate relations with other competitors, rumors of illicit behavior amongst coaches, and all-nighters spent in the seediest nightclubs of the city.”
Some of the things she’s stating were just rumors.
I didn’t have any affairs with coaches that I could remember, and inappropriate relations are something that happens all the time in our world.
She should know, it’s how she met her husband.
I bow my head, taking each accusation like a blow to my soul and letting them find their mark as it withers even more.
“Rumors are out of my control.” I lift my head to find her frigid stare once more.
“But I can appreciate your need to protect the reputation of your studio. I apologize if my presence today has tarnished it in any way. Forgive me for coming.”
With my hand to my chest, I let my sincerity shine from my eyes before turning around and walking steadily toward the door I came in from.
As soon as my hand meets the cold metal of the door handle, I hear Greyson’s voice as he whispers Vaeda’s name harshly.
I open the door without a backward glance and step back into the studio, closing it behind me softly.
It was worth the chance, but it’s clear not enough time has passed for forgiveness.
With a nod to the others, I leave the studio and head back down the hallway toward the building’s entrance. Time is a fickle thing, and even though time will erase my actions, it will also steal from me the future I long for.
Just as I’m stepping out onto the cold streets, the sound of my name being called gives me pause.
I turn to find Greyson jogging toward me, his silk dress pants flowing with each hurried step.
“Don’t walk away,” he pants as he stops in front of me.
“You are a talented dancer, one many still speak of, and you can redeem yourself.”
“Thank you,” I mutter as a cold breeze brushes by my face, making me grit my teeth against the onslaught. “I appreciate you giving me a chance.”
“I’m not just giving you a chance, Mateo.” He smiles, his eyes shining with mischief. “I’m giving you a spot.”
“What?” I let go of the door as his hand presses to the glass, preventing it from closing fully.
“Classes start in two days. Be here at six o’clock in the evening.”
“But Vaeda—”
“She is not the sole owner of this studio,” he states as he stands a little straighter.
“We each were to choose two people, and you are one of my choices. Don’t make me regret it.
” He finally steps back as I watch the door shut, the glass pane reflecting my shock back at me.
It’s a few minutes later when the frost on my cheeks snaps me out of my trance.
I didn’t even dance.